


Just a Little Bent

by fuzipenguin



Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blood and Gore, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, Kinda?, M/M, Necrophilia, Other, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Twincest, death kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 08:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: 'Not right in the head' is a pretty apt descriptor for the two of them.
Relationships: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Transformers)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194158
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Just a Little Bent

**Author's Note:**

> 17\. Blood and Gore
> 
> *Mind the tags!*

People have said a lot of things about them. That they were cursed… evil… not right in the head.

Sideswipe didn’t know if he believed in curses, and if they were truly evil, they would probably never stop when they were told to, but the last one…

Spec Ops recruited Sideswipe because to all outward appearances, he was the sane one and the strategist. Yet, while tactics and strategy _were_ one of his skillsets, he probably would not be considered sane by any psychologist.

Regardless, most Spec Ops mechs were a little dark at spark and like recognized like.

Sideswipe refused to be pulled from the frontlines full time unless Sunstreaker came too. His argument was that if Sideswipe was the scalpel, Sunstreaker was the hammer. And Sideswipe couldn’t do his best work without his brother.

Sunstreaker was the flash before the boom, graceful and deadly and _distracting_ ; no one ever saw Sideswipe follow him in. Few people realized that Sunstreaker rarely killed his opponents. Oh, he maimed them, incapacitated them for certain, but it was Sideswipe who slipped the knife into their sparks…

… after he got all the information they were sent to collect, of course.

“Are you done?” Sunstreaker rumbled from a few feet away.

Sideswipe nodded, his gaze absently focused on the shoulder of the wide-opticked Decepticon whose body he knelt beside. The mech’s thrashing had calmed once Sideswipe had entered his systems and now only his mouth moved. Silently, of course, as his voice box and most of his throat were missing due to a well-timed swipe from one of Sunstreaker’s taloned hands.

“Yup. And he’s the last one. Not much to gather from this lot, unfortunately. Prowl’ll be torqued,” Sideswipe commented, feeling his twin move closer.

“Bad luck. Or they knew we were coming,” Sunstreaker said, crouching down behind Sideswipe. He reached out and grabbed Sideswipe’s wrist as he attempted to remove his data cable from the ‘con. “No, stay plugged in.”

Sideswipe raised an orbital ridge in question. “What for? He doesn’t know anything; I got all I could out of him.”

Sunstreaker loosened his grip so he could trail his fingers up Sideswipe’s arm, leaving streaks of energon on the red plating. His hands were covered in it, and with the way it was splashed across his face, he looked a little demonic.

“Not yet you haven’t. Open up.”

His brother’s gaze flicked downwards towards Sideswipe’s thighs and then slowly traveled back up, until their optics met. Sideswipe’s vents caught at the heated stare and he unconsciously licked his lower lip, Sunstreaker’s stare fixating on the small motion.

“… yeah?” Sideswipe asked faintly.

Moving easily with the answering shove, Sideswipe fell forward onto his hands and knees, partly straddling the Decepticon. He winked down at the mech as Sunstreaker stroked between his thighs, his interface panel sliding aside for fluid-slicked fingers.

Sideswipe’s optic shutters fluttered when two digits penetrated his valve, pumping shallowly before withdrawing. They were replaced by a hard and insistent spike, Sunstreaker’s pace instantly rough and brutally fast. 

“Tell me when he’s about to go,” Sunstreaker grunted, his claws digging into Sideswipe’s waist.

“Yes, brother,” Sideswipe murmured, staring down into the Decepticon’s optics. He watched the mech’s fearful expression bleed into one of horror as Sideswipe seeped back into his systems, entrenching himself deeply. Disgust and helplessness followed as Sideswipe poured the physical sensations he was experiencing down their link, saturated completely now with lust.

Sideswipe rarely indulged like this both because his twin had to be in the right mood and because it could be dangerous. Anyone could sneak up on them while they fragged especially if one of them was plugged into a dying member of the opposite faction. It put them at a disadvantage, but no other spark life currently registered on their scans besides theirs and the flickering one beneath them. 

Plus, Sunstreaker had just commented the other day about how tetchy Sideswipe had been getting lately. He had apparently judged it safe enough to give Sideswipe this particular gift.

They generally refused backup on missions, although Sideswipe suspected Jazz had some idea of their proclivities. The head of Spec Ops was extremely observant, and no doubt witnessed the relaxed set to Sunstreaker’s shoulders after every kill assignment or how Sideswipe sometimes came back pleasure-dazed. Jazz never seemed to care much. Not as long as they could be reined in for another mission in the dark of the next night.

The Decepticon made a gurgling noise and Sideswipe groaned, falling forward onto the other mech’s chest and clutching it. Beneath his cheek, energon welled up from a deep stab wound, gracing the corner of his mouth. Sideswipe licked his lips, moaning loudly as the ‘con’s engine starting sputtering.

“… close… I’m close!” Sideswipe gasped. “Oh, Sunny, please… _please_ …”

Sunstreaker’s left hand slid around and encircled Sideswipe’s turgid spike, stripping it with familiar efficiency. “Come on then… he’s dying… feel it… feel the way his systems are shutting down one by one…”

“Primus… Primus, oh frag, that’s it!” Sideswipe cried out, his legs trembling as the Decepticon’s spark beat faltered beneath his audial. “Keep… don’t stop… frag, that’s so good…almost… almost!”

With a great shudder, the Decepticon’s frame tried valiantly to keep living, but the damage was too much. All the various systems crashed in one rapid cascade, the mech’s fear and pain flooding the connection between them until it abruptly stopped in one soundless, wordless flash. Sideswipe’s optics rolled back in his head as he experienced the ‘con’s death secondhand and his body went limp, hips held aloft by his twin’s punishing grip.

Distantly, Sideswipe felt his spike jerk and then start pulsing transfluid onto the filthy decking between his knees. His valve clenched down in overload, and Sunstreaker cursed behind him, completely burying himself two strokes later and unloading his own load deep within Sideswipe.

Sprawled out over an offlined Decepticon’s body, his knee quickly becoming soaked in energon and transfluid, and with his twin’s spike still twitching inside him… Sideswipe thought once more that maybe… maybe what people said about them wasn’t so inaccurate.

~end


End file.
